


Grappling with Reality

by Sushi



Category: Nikita (TV 2010)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-13
Updated: 2011-03-13
Packaged: 2017-10-16 22:22:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/169983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sushi/pseuds/Sushi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was the madness they endured, when common sense is drowned out by heat and passion. When the thought of one another makes you ache with desire, and causes your actions to become reckless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grappling with Reality

With her back to the building, she took slow calculated steps and her eyes strained to focus on the inanimate shapes in the dark alley. She could hear rats scurrying in and around a dumpster and the steady drip of water hitting a puddle on the ground. With one hand she gripped her glock, with the other she supported it, and her weapon led her to an entry way that was recessed into the building wall. She relied on her sixth sense, it had saved her many times before, this ability to get the drop on her adversary. Those who knew her, never underestimated this skill, and Michael knew her well.

He reached out and grabbed her, with one arm firmly entrapping her arms and encircling her waist, and his other hand clamped over her mouth, he pulled her against him and stepped back into the door way  That split second she needed to defend herself was lost when he jerked her up off of her feet.

"Stop it." He muttered into her ear. "It's me." He kept his grip on her and when he felt her struggle, he squeezed her tighter until she gasped for air. "Nikita!"

She knew it was him, and she knew she was only here because of him. She finally stopped trying to free herself and as she relaxed, the tension left his body as well. He set her back down on her feet and the adrenaline that spiked through them both started to subside. He took his hand off of her mouth, but kept his arm across her neck.

"Why are we here?" She was suspicious of his motives, and although she always knew he wouldn't kill her, hurting her was a different story.

"I should ask you that question." He released her from his vice like grip, and turned her around, slamming her against the wall and holding onto the arm that held the gun.

There are feelings we can't rationally explain, and impulses that take hold of us without a thought to the consequences. They could pretend they didn't exist, but reality always comes back to find you. It was confusing and no matter how much they both tried to prevent it from happening, it became inevitable. This shared vulnerability, it made them weak, and this is where the real danger lay.

"Michael, let go of me." She whispered, her eyes searching his. He glared at her, but released her arm and she slowly tucked the gun into small of her back.

This was, she decided, the substance that makes people crazed. What they had between them was almost tangible and it had become her favorite enemy. Without warning, she grabbed the lapels of his coat and pulled him down to her lips.

Michael saw it coming, it was how he remembered it, the kiss ran deep, urgent and smoldered. Their tongues explored and invaded, sweeping against each other while every one of their senses told them to forget what they knew and to savor what they felt.

Only the most fortunate experience this feeling of euphoria, and when she whimpered with pleasure, a hot hard burn that only she could produce, coursed through him. Michael pressed himself against her, his hands snaked their way around her waist and she tilted her head back, his lips caressed the side of her neck and finally brushed against her ear. His breath was hot and moist and neither could stop themselves from grinding their hips against each other.

"Not here." His voice was just above a whisper, and he pushed her away, holding her at arms length.

She cursed at him under her breath. "Where then?" She seethed, wondering if this were some kind of trick, but when he found a rectangular plate on the door and lifted the cover and punched in a code, she smirked. The door latch released and he took her by the hand and led her inside.

It was nothing she had imagined, the cavernous room with multiple rows of large wooden crates, stacked on one another.  The only light came from beyond the pallets. He pulled her through the maze and in the far corner of the room was a doorway and inside lay a large sectional sofa made of black leather, and Nikita thought to herself, it's perfect.

Michael unbuttoned his overcoat, slipped it off and draped it over the back of the sofa. His black dress shirt and slacks gave him an ominous appearance, and so did the look in his eyes. He pulled Nikita toward him and unzipped her jacket, and with more force than necessary, he stripped it off of her, causing her to catch her breath. It was a warning of things to come and she welcomed it. He held his hand out and she untucked her glock from her back and laid it in his palm, this became a moment of trust, or maybe, surrender.

He gathered her in his arms and she wound her own arms around his neck and her fingers twined in his hair. Once again, their tongues found each other, and he pressed himself against her. When he felt her knees buckle under the spell of his kiss, he reveled in the knowledge that he had this effect on her. He eased her back on the sofa and when she sat down and leaned back and opened her legs, he kneeled down between them. He lifted her sweater up and over her head and reached behind her with one hand and unhooked her strapless bra. It fell away, and her nipples tightened, not from the cool air, but from anticipation.

Michael could never disappoint Nikita, and he cupped her breasts in his hands, her breathing became ragged and she arched her back toward him. He took one rose colored tip between his lips and when he flicked his tongue against it, she moaned and squirmed under his attention. When he used his thumb and forefinger to roll the other one between his fingers, it made her cry out.

"Michael... don't... stop..." She begged, arching toward him under his touch.

When she could take no more, she straightened up to find his eyes were dark pools of passion. They both knew, what he felt was magnified by how she reacted. She reached out to him and pulled at his shirt, the buttons pulling and popping out of their button holes. She tugged it off, and it was her turn to bestow attention on him. Her fingernails scraped along his bare chest and they traced the muscles carved in his lean build. She played with his nipples and felt him twitch, and when she dug her fingers into his flesh, he gripped her waist, holding her in place. She lifted her hips ever so slightly and he slipped his fingers into the waistband of her pants and slid them and her black panties down to her knees. She gave no resistance when one leather boot came off and then the next, followed by the rest of her clothing.

She urged him to come closer, fingering and unbuckling the leather belt around his waist. Next she undid the button on his waistband, and finally she lowered the zipper of his trousers down. She could readily see how how aroused he was and how his body strained to escape from the confines of his clothing. She freed him and ran her fingers along his length, and this time, it was his turn to beg for mercy.

"Nikita... you're making me crazy..." He whispered into her ear, his low voice thick with lust. Once she closed her fist around him, it took little time for the rest of his clothes to be added to the pile they had created, and it took a fraction of that time to find himself stretched out next to her.

Nikita felt his hand trail down her body and when he reached between her thighs, he found her wet with desire. He slipped one finger into her, and than another and continued to stroke her, until he felt that precious agony build inside of her. She writhed with passion and finally reached down and clutched his wrist.

"I want you to be inside of me, I want to feel you inside of me." She murmured.

Michael positioned himself over her and hooked his arms under her legs and leaned forward causing her hips to rise. This made her ravenous for him and he overwhelmed her senses when he drove into her in one smooth thrust. When she wrapped her legs around him, neither knew, who strained to meet the other first. They found the rhythm that caused their hearts to beat wildly and the relentless torment that only two bodies can create goaded them on. When they were covered with a sheen of sweat, their control finally shattered, she came first, pleading for release and shuddering fast and hard. The onslaught of sensation that had taken her hostage made her buck up against him, and only when he knew she had tipped over the edge, did he allow his own climax to collide with hers. She was tight, velvety and every movement caused him to tremble, and finally, he let go. The gruff sounds of his ecstasy filled the room as he fought to regain his sanity.

This was the madness they endured, when common sense is drowned out by heat and passion. When the thought of one another makes you ache with desire and causes your actions to become reckless.

~.~.~.~.~~.~.~.~.~~.~.~.~.~~.~.~.~.~~.~.~.~.~~.~.~.~.~.~

Michael opened his eyes, he felt groggy and disoriented, he was sprawled on the leather sofa with his overcoat draped over him, Nikita's warm lithe body was missing, and so was her clothing, her boots, and her gun. He saw the tiny syringe on the floor, and knew she had drugged him. It made him angry, yet he understood her reasons. They were addicted to each other and both knew addictions were dangerous. Like every time, the feeling of loss caused him to grapple with reality. He closed his eyes and wondered when the next time would come, when the two of them would come crashing down on each other.


End file.
